Performing a Rite

After meeting the Silver Fangs Eiger wanted a distraction so he figured he may as well do what he can to help out the caern he’ll be staying at for a little while. He collected a couple of pumpkins and sat down on the ground as he looked the pumpkins over. He pulled out his silver knife and began sharpening it before carving into them. He gingerly set the knife down as he flipped up his eye patch and a faint wisp of green light flew out of his empty socket and began to dance around the pumpkins. He smiled as he grabbed the knife and plunged it deep into the first pumpkin and began carving away at it.

The Silent Strider studied the newcomer for a long moment, taking measure and note of his actions as well as reflecting on both the pack and his initial exchange and first impressions of the Fianna.

After it looked like the foreign craftsman had reached a resting point in his work, Zas approached him.
"They say first impressions rarely tell the whole story," He says nonchalantly.

Finding an open spot nearby, the Apache took a knee, still surveying the Fae Carver's handiwork.
"Do you think that's true? Or would you say there is not much more to people than what meets the eye?"

Turning to look at the Fianna, "I search for truth. The good, the bad, the ugly, the impartial, and even the half truths. Luna saw fit to make it so. Neither of our journeys thus far have been the same. Yet, each path you have taken has led you here, as have ours. I am always interested to hear the story of others, but even more so when our paths cross and seemingly intertwine."

He looks back to the pumpkin, and says more to himself than to anyone else, "A friend and fellow traveler once helped me see that the truth often looks different based on a person's perspective."

Zas gazes back to Fae Carver and says, "I wonder what it is you see."

Eiger spared the Injun a glance before grabbing another pumpkin and starting anew.

“There is always more to people than meets the eye. So many things go unseen, that I think a better question is why the things are unseen. Are they purposefully hiding who they are, or are there things they have yet to discover. Due to this, first impressions can’t always be trusted.”

He kept carving as he turned and stared at the injun and sighed.

“I can’t help but notice the reception of your pack was rather odd and cold. Perhaps that is just how Garou are in the new world... maybe I stepped on your toes unknowingly already... it’s possible that I expected too much hospitality. Irregardless I pray ye don’t hold that first chance encounter against me, and I shan’t for you lot.”

He closed his eye and smiled a toothy grin as another wisp of faerie light came floating out of his eye socket and danced around Zas’ head. He then laughed and turned back to focus his attention on his work.

“I have seen many things Strider, but not enough. There is more to see, more to smell, more to learn. The world is ever growing, and if you stop to smell the roses... you miss an even more beautiful flower.”

Eaton was walking past the pair, overhearing what FaeCarver said about their first meeting. He stopped with an uneasy grimace, It wasn't anything he did. They're still dour, is all.

He put on a grin and strode toward the two of them, addressing the Fianna as he finished his reply.

"I hope ya don't hold our greetin' against us."

He gestured to Zas, "Not that you should expect a Strider to be the life of the moot, but Rends and Zoe still just ain't themselves. I'm certain they'll warm up to ya. All ya gotta do is not get yer ass kicked in a fight, and you'll earn the Arhoun's respect. And I'm sure Zoe's gonna want to learn more about the fae, unless its a secret ya gotta keep."

He nodded toward the squash, "Speakin' of which, what's that yer workin' on?"

At the Fianna's response Zas smirks, "Thats interesting. I said as much when we first encountered your tribesmen at the White Ash sept. Different times."

Zas extends a charred and blackened hand revealing the Fianna tattoo of Ally inscribed upon his arm. Nodding with a knowing look to Eaton. "I agree that you did not catch our pack at our best. I grow increasingly concerned that perhaps our better days are behind us."

He turns back to Fae Carver, "But as we are here now, let us live in the moment. I am Zas B'ul..." Anticipating a confused look, he continues "Snowy Owl-in the language of my people, I also answer to All-Friend or Dead Hands..."

Zas looks on at the flittering light bobbing about him momentarily speechless before continuing with a gesture to his galliard, "Our pack talespinner, Eaton "Leper-Friend" Callhan could probably say it best as far as official introductions go, but you met our Warchief and Medicine Woman, Sylvester "Rends-the-Gar" Clemons and Zoe "Hears-the-Song" Costas earlier respectively."

He looks on, "I don't think we caught your full name earlier."

Eiger nodded towards Leper Friend as he was approached and rubbed his chin with his free hand while listening. He left his knife in the pumpkin as he shook Zas’ hand and then laid back on the ground staring at the starry sky.

“My given name is Eiger O’Healy. I ain’t gonna hold it against ya lot. I am sure they’ll come around in time. If they don’t mores pity, but I didn’t come here to make friends... I came here hunting Black Spirals. As for what I am doing here though... it’s actually quite fascinating. The door you got is well-made, fancy and all... but wouldn’t it be better to know of your enemies approach before they came a knockin’?”

He sat up grinning and began patting one of the finished pumpkins.

“These babies will scream when they sense an enemy approaching. I planned on setting these up around the caern a little ways. I may be a visitor... but that don’t mean I shouldn’t do all i can to help.”

After a moment. He turned his head and looked at Zas.

“Your introductions. You forgot someone yeah? I thought there were 5 of you. Where’s your Shadowlord?”

Eaton's demeaner wavered significantly,before he took a deep breath,

"Eh, bout that. . ."

He turned his gaze toward the south, "Little over a month ago, we were huntin' vampires south of here, weedin' 'em out from their hiding places. Regular leeches are bad enough, but these had ties with the Abyss. During our most frantic fight, a spirit of the Abyss dragged Brave-in-War into the maw itself."

He paused and turned to gauge Fae's reaction, his jaw setting briefly before he continued, "It turned out there were even greater foes in the Abyss. After makin' our way down, we managed to find Brave-in-War but we were in no condition to fight our way back up."

He paused again, before he sighed, "Turns out the only way Brave-in-War could escape was if someone took his place. Mocks the Night made a great sacrifice, choosin' to stay so they rest of us could leave."

He gave a pitied smile,

"That's kinda what's castin' a shadow over our pack. I still find it hard to believe this wasn't one of his tricks . . ."

He then abrupty gestured to the carving, "Sounds mighty handy. Gettin' a sound rest is gettin' harder these days."

Zas grits his teeth at Eatons telling of the events, and says with a bit more than a tinge of bite and bitterness to his voice,
"He's with the shades and shadows now. He made his choice. His actions will--perhaps in time, bear greater fruit, but only time will tell."

Zas shakes his head and slowly rises to his feet.
He turns to look at the carver and says, "Few of the ways we've trod have been as full of tears, but our journey often winds its course through the darkness rather than around it. The bloodprice paid for this excursion was far higher than nee--anticipated."

Looking back to the pumpkin, "A worthy task indeed."

Eiger listened intently to the Galliard and Philadox in turn before shaking his head.

“Damn. I’m right sorry. As I said I ain’t ever been in a pack... but I grew up with three cousins of mine. They were Get. Fierce. Taught me all I knew... but one day only 1 returned. They picked a fight they couldn’t win... and 2 lost their lives, while 1 got away. I imagine your pain is something similar. If I understood ya right though, he’s still alive yeah?”

Eiger looked between the two but began talking again before hey could answer.

“I may be oversteppin’ my bounds in speaking here... but I’m a Ragabash so it’s what I do. So my question to you is, If you trusted him in life... why wouldn’t you trust him in “death”? I hear tales of Shadowlords being mistrustful... but if you were in a pack with the gimp he must not have been 1/2 bad. Jes sayin’.”

He sat back up and began carving the next pumpkin quickly in the silence.

“I suppose it just begs an unanswerable question of what Mother Gaia prefers. Does she prefer us to fight battles we cannot win... or does she expect us to be smart in when, where, and how we strike the Wyrm?”

He turns and looks at a Zas.

“I can’t believe every tribe would answer the same way... so what is the truth Zas? Is the truth what most of the tribes say? Is the truth what Gaia says? Is the truth what your tribe says? If you as you say search for the truth... where do you even begin to find it?”

Eaton's expression turned outright solom. "If he's still alive, we wouldn't recognize him. Not sure if ya had the chance to saunter through the Abyss, but . . .it eats at ya, dulls yer senses, plays with your head. It was hard enough walkin' though it even before the wyrm shit we fought."

He swallowed as he said, "We were only able to get though the Abyss at all 'cause of Lune Stalker's guidance and warnings. And she seemed to know full well what Mock's had done mean't comin' back wasn't happenin'."

He did give a small smile, "Still, I've entertained the thought, though. That he outwitted the freaks down there and managed to fool us, too. Or he's still workin' in it and will succeed someday."

He let out a small huff and turned to Zas, "Though maybe you can tell me how long it takes before holdin' out hope becomes lyin' to myself."

Zas looks between the two garou for a moment before speaking with his eyes growing distant and the spark within seeming to dim as he reflected on his packmate, "Mocks the Night was a garou through and through. He was a man of honor and a testament to the strength of his tribe. We were blood brothers. He chose the spot he wished to make a stand-for good or ill. He was no saint though, and he would be the first person to admit it. I trusted him in this life without question....even had him as our pack Alpha. Whatever his reasons were for making the choice he did, he made the choice--damn the consequences. Mocks the Night I trusted. The Nightmaster however, I do not. When the Nightmaster was born, Kefka died...and that is all I will say on the matter."

The Silent Strider's eyes refocused back to the scene at hand as he continued. "As to the matter of the truth...the answer is both simple, and complicated."

Looking to Eiger specifically with a small grin, "The simple answer is in the Litany which I hope you are at least passingly familiar with. We fight the wyrm where it dwells. This is the starting point and the measuring stick used to find the truth."

His grin fades as his brow furrows, "The complicated answer is that everyone sees and interprets the law and therefore the truth in their own way...each has their own perspective. However, gaia set the task of keeping the law to those born under light of the half moon. We balance and scale and weigh and measure to find and uncover the truth. Gaia saw fit to have some born of each tribe to resolve the law and to view truth in their own way. As peacemakers we serve both the mother and her people."

As he considers the question, he sighs and says, "My current interpretation and understanding of the truth is that we must destroy the rotted wyrm where it dwells. We defend the mother by protecting the wyld and fight to keep the weaver at bay. We each will eventually fight a battle we can not win either in combat or with time. However, if we are favored and prove to be strong, vigilant, cunning, honorable and wise we will make our death worthy of legends and song; With a little bit of luck we may be able to let Luna keep on shining on those who come after us long after we are little more than echoes of dust and fading memory."

The Philodox bows his head, "We live to serve. We fight to survive. We die so that others won't. We live again. That is the truth. Nothing more is needed, and nothing less is acceptable for a garou."

Eiger listened intently as both Garou spoke waiting until they were done to begin carving the next pumpkin which he barely begins before speaking.

“You are right, Strider. Gaia gave us brains for a reason. Our numbers are not limitless... in fact it’s quite the opposite. Looking purely at numbers The Shadowlord made the right choice. We for sure lost 1, rather than possibly losing many. Survival is more than luck being favored. Sometimes we have to suck it up and cut our own losses in the hopes and expectations we will make up those gains later. Not fighting can be a viable option, and sometimes the wisest. It’s why you all are here yes? You decided to avoid future fights, consolidate, and close a caern off.

He pauses.

“I know little of the abyss and even less of your packmate, so my opinion on this matter means little... but based on the information you both have provided... there was no right answer. Imagine if you will if The Shadowlord did not become the Night Master. You fought valiantly but in the end Brave and War was not saved. Skaith and Hears the Song fell as well. Rends, your ahroun, makes it out but is mortally wounded. You arrive back at camp defeated. Perhaps you sit around the fire and and try to talk it out. The Shadowlord quietly states that if he had accepted the offer, everyone would still be alive...”

He looks them each in the eye.

“Would you have been able to look at him and told him he made the “right” choice? I say again, as the facts are laid before me you had 2 shitty options neither one right, and neither one more wrong. But as I also said my opinion means very little, as should the opinion of anyone else not in your pack. You all knew him best, so only you all can guess what was happening in his brain. If you believe him dead so be it, but if you want to hold out hope... keep that candle burning at least until you get another light to replace it. “

With a grimace Eaton says, "Well, yeah I don't think anyone woulda been happy with either outcome. The point is, someone had to stay in the Abyss. It's tragic no matter who's involved."

He then adds, "Sorry, we don't meant to dump all our feelin's on ya. Surely we kind find another topic to brighten the mood."

He looked at the flipped eye patch and asked, "So, is that a scar of yours, or a blessin' of the Fae? Or both? If it's an old wound, I'd like to hear how you got it. Then I can tell ya the story of one of mine."

He paused, "Actually I'd still like to know how ya got it even if it ain't a scar ."

The Silent Strider gives a tired and weary look to Eiger as he speaks his mind. He waited until he had finished speaking before saying, "It is presumptious to believe we could know the outcome of the journey had we all chosen to fight our way out instead of what occurred. "

As Eaton started to speak Zas tears up but says nothing.

He turns away from the two garou and takes a moment to collect himself nodding at the recommendation to change the topic. However no sooner had he taken his breath he felt the oddest of smiles work its way across its face.

The Philodox chuckled, "So let me get this straight...your first go-to topic of conversation designed to brighten the mood is to ask the man about his missing eye?"

Zas shaking his head still smiling, turns to face Fae Carver and says, "I for one am interested to hear of your rite of passage."

Eiger let out a laugh as the two pack mates expressed their want for what in their minds would be two separate stories.

“The story of my Rite of Passage and the story of how I lost my eye are one in the same. Long story short... I gave it away. But before I start at the beginning I must gauge where the starting point needs to be. What do you know about a Fianna’s Rite of Passage?”

Eaton scratched at his ear, a bit too long for it to be merely inquisitive. Flicking away a bug he said, "Well, I know one of the tenants of the Fianna is generosity so givin' away yer eye makes sense there. I woulda thought a Rite of Passage was tailored for ya. The Bone Gnawers used to joke that a Fianna's rite was keepin' a whole barrel of yer mead down, then either gettin' into a fight and winin' or tellin' a story that didn't embarrass yourself."

He looked at FaeCarver with an uneasy wince, "Though not too many of them spent a lot of time with yer kind, though. So I guess I ain't too familiar with Stag's brand of tests."

Zas nods in seeming agreement with Eatons reply.
"I have not interacted with your kinsmen as much as I would like, but I can say that I know the sons and daughters of the master of the hunt place great value on family and on honoring the ways of the past as well as honoring nature. They also believe in the importance of a name matching who a person really is, and in celebrating life as no future day is promised."

He looks to Fae-Carver and says, "So if I were to hazard a guess, I think that your rite of passage and earning your chosen name would revolve around proving your adherance and belief in some or all of these traits Stag's son."

The inquisitive owl like eyes gazed at the fianna. "Are we close?"

Eiger chuckled as Leperfriend spoke, and nodded to Zas.

“Based on how a lot of my tribe act I can’t blame you for thinkin’ that Lepefriend. The Fianna from Ireland typically are rambunctious from that. My Fianna heritage comes from the SkySingers who resides in the Alps. My grandfather, who I am named, after travelled from there to Ireland where he met my grandmother and eventually my father was born.”

He turned to Zas.

“You are correct in what you said, family is king to us. However the three virtues each Fianna strive to personify are Hospitality, Generosity, and Bravery.”

He nodded to Zas to make sure there were no further questions before diving into his storie.

“Before a cub Rite of Passage can undergo a Rite of Passage they must mentor under another Garou in the caern for a year. We call this Fostering. I fostered under the Theurge Lore Weaver who used to be the Righ, or leader of the caern. The first 4 months were spent learning the 12 sagas, in our native tongues, in the High Tongue, in Ogham, and in Dindsendchas. The next 8 months were filled with rigorous physical challenges. Often the challenges are based on stories about kinfolk or high ranking Fianna. I passed 3 of the physical tests. For a week straight I defended a lot bridge and allowed no traveller to cross. I tracked an animal for 3 days and 3 nights without it noticing and getting spooked. And with braided hair I ran through the woods and did leave any tracks or hair to be followed as a trail.

After my fostering was complete I had to meet at the caern’s heart with the other cubs who made it through the fostering and sacrifice something to the caern Totem. I had carved a small figurine of Stag from a fine Ash tree... anyways, after the sacrifice we were sent to Umbra and awaited Stag. Stag appeared to me as Cernunnos, but it would have been possible for him to show up as either The White Hart, or Herne the Horned One as well. I was greeted as a father greets his child and was told that my task was to show someone who was lost true hospitality, and with that he vanished.

“I walked in Umbra for quite some time before coming across what seemed to be an inn. There was only one customer. She was a beautiful dark skinned woman with a jeweled forehead. She was also the wearing the finest of silks. She was upset from having waited so long for service so I greeted her and brought her the finest bottle of wine I could have while I asked for her order. She ordered curry which I had no idea how to make, but I went to the kitchen to do my best. When I got there and gathered the ingredients I realized that she was blind. It then occurred to me I could mess up her curry, or let her see. So I cut it my own eye and offered it to her. As thanks she blessed me with the talent I have for my carvings.”

Eiger then pulled up a necklace around his neck that held a pouch. He opened it up and brought out possibly the most beautiful carving in his collection. It was a beautiful Fae holding an eye an her outstretched hand. He held it out for Zas and Eaton to look at.

Zas inspected the extended item closely, looking between it and Eiger several times.

Then he leaned back and rubbed his chin. "You certainly have some skill with that wood notcher."

Zas looked him in the eye as he asks, "Do you think the trade was equal? Fair?"

He gestured to the wood piece, his words carrying a bit of emotional weight given the prior conversation, "Was sacrificing part of yourself for a trade worth it?"

The Silent Strider gives a nod to Eiger, "The rest of the Fianna seem to have taken a different path...perhaps this is due simply to having been presented with a different option, or maybe they were more attached to their body parts but for whatever reason you seem to walk a strange course."

Eaton's eyes widened as Faecarver produced the figure. "Huh. Well can't say I was expectin' that. I was thinkin' ya lost it in one of your battles."

He pointed to his right eye, which appeared faded as if made of impure glass, "This here was just a man gettin' lucky with a stray bullet. It wasn't even silver. The eye doesn't do anythin' special though- unless makin' it harder to focus is a gift."

He asks, "Ya have any other scars?"

He smiled and shook his head.

“No other scars worth mentioning. I may be 1/2 Get and 1/2 Fianna but I try to only fight when absolutely necessary. Spending the majority of my life as Keeper of the Land at my home caern, and only leaving as a Fae liaison or to learn about the Fae I am haven’t actually gone on the attack too often. This tracking down of Ford to get more information on the Black Spirals and kill him is the first time I’ve done something like this. But after seeing the destruction in Georgia... there is no other course for me to take.”

He turned to Zas.

“As for if it was worth it... sacrificing my eye for my talent with carving. It was absolutely worth it. I see more with this eye alone when creating then I ever could have before.”

The Silent Strider nods in understanding. "You seeking to be a peacemaker and bridging the divide between tribes is a goal we have in common."

He gestures over to Aara Deadwood who happened to be passing by, "The king mentioned that his band seemed to have peace in mind as well. Though you may not see many here, at the White Ash sept, they worked alongside the Shadowlords."

A thought runs through his mind, "You didn't mention it in your tale earlier. I know some Silver Fang king across the sea was readying for war against Roaring Jack's predecessor. You or your family have any dealings with him?"